


Not a Prince, a King

by ellis_end



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:34:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellis_end/pseuds/ellis_end
Summary: A jousting tournament where Cercei’s dreams are crushed and the first plan of her future as a queen formed.
Relationships: Cercei Lannister & Jaime Lannister, Cersei Lannister/Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Not a Prince, a King

I remember the first time I saw the King. It was years  
ago but I remember it well. It was late summer. Father took us to a jousting tournament in King's Landing. The trees were hanging low from the fruit almost ready to collect. It was so green and hot in there unlike Casterly Rock where the wild sea winds made it hard to go outside without even a thin cloak and greenery has given way to the hard yellow rock. 

I took in as much sun as I could as I watched the jousting site from the window of our carriage. In the corner of my eye I saw Jaime trying his best not to show father his nerves. It was his first jousting tournament, mine too. 

Father said that Jaime was old enough to watch the tournament and he let me go with them. It was years later that I understood why he did so. I was to marry the Prince after all. He wanted to flaunt me in his face. 

Tyrion didn't go. He never went anywhere with us. Father preferred to keep him at home.

Nevertheless I was blissful. I was finally to participate in an important event. But most importantly I was to finally see my future husband. Of course, Father described him to me as an incredibly handsome prince and I saw paintings of him but I wanted to truly see him, and I wanted him to truly see me.

Since the day of my eighth birthday when Father told me that I am to marry a prince and become the Queen I have been dreaming about this day.

As we passed the first tents I was scolded by Father for being overly curious. I sheepishly hid my head behind the curtain again having previously caught a last glance my eyes fell on the biggest tent of them all, the King's Tent.

I looked at Jaime. His hands were sweating and he was trying not to look at Father. 

"Father?" he finally said, his voice faint and weak.

"Speak son." Father said without even looking at him.

"Will I have to fight?" Jaime gulped waiting anxiously for the answer.

"You are a foolish boy," said Father finally looking at Jaime "I don't want to bury the only proper son I have."

Jaime knew better than to mention Tyrion so he just closed his mouth tightly. But I could see relief washing over him.

~*~

As we stepped into our tent prepared for us beforehand Father told every servant to leave. We instantly knew that he had something to tell us. 

He sat in his chair ornamented with lion heads. His golden signet's shine complementing the silver glow of the King's Hand pin on his chest. 

Father's eyes were cold and stern always plotting something. Jaime and I took out places standing in front of him like we did hundreds of times before in the Casterly Rock. I remember the knot forming in my stomach every time we did it, after all this is how he told us about Mother's death.

"I hope you both know how important it is for you to behave appropriately today." He said his eyes burning holes in our own.

"You must not show weakness," now his eyes focused on Jaime "And show dignity."

Father remained silent for a minute looking for any signs of disagreement in our attitudes.

"You're lions. You are proud. Do not forget that." 

With these words he excused us.

~*~

It was time. We were steps away from the main tribune. Father told us how important was this tournament. Every family that mattered was here. Then suddenly the tribune appeared from behind the sea of tents. My eyes immediately focused on its center. 

And I saw Him. He was sitting on the biggest chair I've ever seen in my life. Much like Father's chairs this one was ornamented with heads of animals too. But these animals had scales and rows of sharp fangs sticking out of their open jaws. They were dragons. 

The Mad King looked just as they described him. His silver hair was tied back revealing his wrinkled face. His beard was even fairer that his hair, it was perfectly brushed with little gold and silver pieces of jewellery braided into it. Aerys' lavender eyes changed every time I looked at them. Sometimes they were light and sharp, other times there was a thick mist hanging over them like a curtain.

And he was as mad as they said. One second he was composed and stone cold watching the knights prepare for joust and the other he was laughing hysterically then slamming his hand on the arm of his throne, his eyes raging with fire only mad man's eyes could.

On his left stood a smaller chair occupied by the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in all of the twelve years of my life.

Raella Targaryen, The Queen, King's wife and sister. I still remember how angelically her long hair glowed in the morning sun. Her face looked as if it was made of stone, trained from years of enduring her brother's behavior. She endured the King's fits of laugher and rage with royal dignity. Realla remained composed even as her husband gripped her hand crushing it under his fingers as if only for entertainment, as her other hand laid on her significantly big belly that carried another heir to the throne. I couldn't understand then how she could just sit there and let her husband do such things to her but I do now. Power has its prize.

To the King's right sat the man I was betrothed to. Prince Rhaegar. He looked so much like his mother. His features still quite boyish in his seventeenth summer. Rhaegar's hair, lighter shade of silver than his father's, stopped at his shoulders. There was a faint shadow of facial hair gracing his jaw and cheeks. His lavender eyes glowing with the crispness young men have. Even though Rhaegar's face still resembled a boy's face his body was no longer slim and fair in a way young boys' bodies tend to be. I could see the outline of his chest and thighs under his robes.

But Rhaegar wasn't the only royal child present. On Raella's left side sat another boy. Prince Viserys was maybe my age. His body was slim and bony, as was his face complemented with silver hair, stopping almost at the shoulders, much like his older brother's. Viserys's violet eyes were looking away from his father. His posture slouched. Even then I could see how scared he was of the King.

"Why is nobody stopping him?" Jaime winced as he watched Aerys blatantly gripping his wife's bosom in front of thousands of subjects.

"Because he's the King." Said Father calmly as if he wasn't concerned with what was happening at all.

Soon my brother's eyes filled with horror as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him. 

As Raella endured the humiliation with dignity Rhaegar became more and more agitated with his father's actions. Finally he leaned in his chair and whispered something is the King's ear. I watched as King's eyes slowly filled with unstoppable rage. As he turned towards his son it wasn't even a second before the Prince was gripping his bleeding nose. A servant standing near by offering him a handkerchief.

That was when I realised that the infamous Mad King had deserved to be called so.

~*~

Throughout the tournament I watched the Prince from my seat. He was even more handsome than how Father described him. I couldn't help but imagine his lavender eyes looking straight at me. 

Eventually I had to let him out of my sight as he stepped into the Prince's Tent to prepare himself for his fight.

"Who is the Prince of Dragonstone jousting against Father?" I heard a young boy on the lower tribune ask. 

"He is fighting Dickon Tarly, Ned" said a man with dark bushy hair.

The people from the tribute below looked different than everyone else. Their skin was pale and hair dark, all dressed in animal furs. 

"But Tarly is a lady," laughed a young man sitting next to the boy "The Prince should fight with real men."

"Silence Brandon," The man looked at his son angrily "Do you know what would happen if your words reached King's ears?" 

Brandon said no more but soon his father's voice was to be heard again.

"The King can't risk loosing a son, Prince Viserys' health is too weak to rule the Seven Kingdoms. That's why Rhaegar's opponent isn't impressive." 

~*~

It was a majestic sight to see the Prince on horseback with full armor glowing in the sun. His helmet resembled dragon's head. The Prince wasn't in a hurry as his horse slowly moved towards the tribune.

I was scared that my heart will leap out of my chest as I dreaded and longed for him to look at me. I couldn't wait for him to ride up to me. 

And he did he was so close. He looked at my father and then just as he was about to lay his angelic eyes on me they found Her. She was sitting on a lower tribune surrounded by her brothers, all of them wrapped in fine furs. With horror in my eyes I looked as he took her hand and kissed it, just as Father said he would do to me. Her cheeks went red as she fumbled with her handkerchief and tied it around Rhaegar's spear. 

The tribunes erupted with hushed whispers. I looked at my father confused. His eyes were angry as he looked back at me, and I could see that a plan was already forming in his head.

"Do not worry child," he said "You will marry someone far greater than a Prince, you will marry a King."


End file.
